


A Movement of Consecutive Uncalled-For Moments

by Missmusicluver



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Art museum, Bounty Hunter, F/M, Guns, no powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missmusicluver/pseuds/Missmusicluver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Bounty Hunter! Percy just wants something stolen from him back from Gaia. In doing so, he missed his court date on accident. Opps. Shouldn't have been a problem, except not only does he figure out notorious Mob Boss Gaia's actually out to get him, as in the dead way, but he also has a ridiculously pretty, and annoyingly smart, bounty hunter after him too. Seriously. His life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Movement of Consecutive Uncalled-For Moments

Percy was having a pretty good day. -Right up until he'd been shot, and had a crazy blonde chick throw him to the ground and handcuff him.

He'd been digging around for clues, cliche as that sounds. In downtown Sacramento in California at pretty sketchy club, talking up a bartender. It'd been going well for someone with luck like him. No one looked too close at his face, or thought his dirty jeans and sweatshirt were something to be suspicious about. No one asked for a name. Percy figured as someone trying to blend in, and stay out of trouble, he was doing a damn good job.

Percy tapped his fingers on the wooden counter, trying not to imagine the grime that was probably getting under his fingernails at the movement. "So have you seen her?" he asked just loud enough for the man across from him to hear.

The bartender glanced at Percy, and then at the small shot glass he was 'cleaning' with a dingy washcloth Percy was sure had seen the better side of a car's engine. "Maybe," the dude in question said. "I see a lot of people around here though. Hard to keep track of who comes and goes."

Percy smiled sourly. "I'm sure you'd recognize her. She's pretty hard to forget." Everyone knew her. Or at least heard of her. This dude just just trying to give him a hard time. Or wanted something.

The bartender shrugged a shoulder. "Not sure if I would or not. Like I said, lot of people come around here." So money then. He wanted money.

Percy sighed and pulled out his wallet. He took out a golden drachma and tossed it over the counter. "Does that  _jog_  your memory?"

The man swiped the coin from the counter wood, and bit down at its edge, testing to see if it was real. Satisfied a moment later, he tucked the coin in his pocket, and leaned against the counter towards Percy, giving him his full attention. "Gaia was here about two hours ago," he started off. Percy leaned in too, keeping his face hidden in the shadows of the room. "Came in with a tall guy about… I dunno, maybe 6'7, 6'10 with red hair. Had some kind of staff. Iron I think it was, and he wore a lot of jewelry. Like a ton. Thought the dude was walking jewelry box. Super rich i'd figure."

Percy frowned. "Did he have a name?"

"You know, I can't seem to really recall-"

Percy flipped him another gold drachma, and nodded. "His name."

"Alcyoneus," the bartender stated. He looked over both his shoulders and down the pretty empty bar before looking back to Percy. "Word is, he's one of her 'kids'. Calls her mama and everything."

Percy's frown got deeper. It wasn't surprising, but it wasn't good either. The man was completely loyal to her then. "What'd she do when she was here?" Percy asked.

The bartender shrugged. "Dunno. She sat back in the VIP section, up on the second floor. I didn't hear a thing."

"Was anyone else with her? Was she carrying anything?" Like a statue? Percy wanted to ask.

The bartender looked at him closely, taking in his crumpled and probably horribly smelly sweatshirt, and greasy hair. The bags under his eyes, and the unusually thin set of his cheeks. Percy didn't know what the man saw, as Percy hadn't looked into a mirror for weeks, but he doubted it was anything flattering.

"What do you want with Gaia?" The bartender asked, his eyes dark and narrowed in suspicion. "You know who she is around here don't you?"

Anger flooded Percy's system, making his voice hard and cold. Yes, he knew who she was. "Your  _mob boss_  took something of mine," Percy said, his own eyes narrowing in remembrance. "Something important. And I want it back."

The billion dollar miniaturized version of the Athenian statue, the  _Athena Parthenos_ , that was supposed to bring peace between his father's two, 'sister' art companies, the 'Orange Oracle" and the "Purple Prophecy". The statue that he'd been tasked to retrieve from Greece and present as an  _appeasement merger_  for both companies before an all out takeover started to happen between the two of them. Something to call for peace for both art companies and to call as one so neither tried to buy the other out.

Something that that  _woman_  Gaia had literally stolen from his  _hotel room_  in Greece. Why? He had no idea. Probably because Percy's father and uncles bad blood between them and her in the past. It happened more often than Percy cared to think about.

The bartender didn't look impressed at Percy's announcement. Actually, he looked a little amused. " _That's_  why you want to find Gaia?" He shook his head and picked up his little glass shot glass and rag again. "Good luck with that."

"Who wants to find Gaia?" a new voice asked, entering into the left of Percy's line of vision. He was tall, make no mistake, with a huge crop of curly black hair, and thick set eyebrows that dominated most of his face. He lumbered down next to Percy and the bartender, who Percy now realized somewhere in the back of his ADHD mind, that he had a nametag, and that the nametag said Greg.

Eyebrows the Giant sat down next to Percy on one of the bar's stools, across from Greg the Bartender, and glared at Percy with beady brown eyes, nearly black. He gave Percy a once-over, not in the hot way, and narrowed his eyes. "I asked you a question kid."

Percy didn't know if it was the 'kid' comment, of if he was just feeling all of a sudden pretty ornery, but Percy sneered at the big dude beside him and ticked an eyebrow back up in challenge. "And I decided I don't want to answer."

Eyebrows the Giant shifted so Percy had a clear view of him cracking his very large muscled hands against each other. "Maybe a broken jaw will help you then."

Percy's sneer turned into something of honest confusion, as  _no,_  he was pretty sure a broken jaw would  _not_  help that kind of situation. In fact, it might even make the situation worse, as he wouldn't be able to speak at all then. Geez, no one could find good help these days.

The implied threat hit his brain a half second later, and Percy shifted in his seat in case he needed to move, and move fast in the next couple of seconds. "You know, pass. I like the way my jaw is right now, but thanks for asking about it. I know how hard it is for other-"

The Percy Jackson Sass was cut off all of a sudden, when a fist the size of small baked ham came flying out at him faster than Percy thought possible. His instincts were good though, and after a couple of consecutive years in fencing, and MMA fighting his father had insisted upon him learning, he found that he could just barely dodge his head from the incoming fist, and twist away, out of his seat, and behind his bar stool nearly behind Eyebrows the Giant.

Eyebrows followed his movement through his missed punch, and decided to stand up as well, towering over the reasonably sized Percy. The guy was freaking  _huge._  "Now you're in for it kid."

"Again with the kid comment," Percy rolled his eyes before his brain could catch up. "Do I seriously look that young to you dude? I'm probably older than your-"

The ham-sized fist came flying at him again, and Percy threw himself to the right to avoid the impact. He tripped over the edge of his own bar stool, and face planted into the gross wooden ground. His hands caught him before his nose could break, or his forehead suddenly got an interesting golf ball sized bruise on his head, but Eyebrows took his sudden lack of vertical presence as an invitation to grab his feet and pull him backwards like a ragdoll.

The ground slid under Percy as he moved backwards, and his sweatshirt started to ride up his chest.  _Get up, get up get up Jackson!_  his mind yelled at him. If he was still on the ground by the time he was near Eyebrows, Percy doubted the dude would have any objections to start using his feet instead of his fists against Percy. And then all that would be left of him would be a gross slime of Jackson Jelly left for his mom to find out about.

Not gonna happen.

Percy scrambled to find some sort of hand hold to stop his regressing movement towards Eyebrows feet and, somehow, caught the metal edge of the bar stool that had tripped him to begin with. _Make it up to me bro,_  Percy thought to himself before he grasped the leg firmly and yanked back, nearly throwing his shoulder out, as he twisted around in his momentum, and slammed the lip of the metal seat into Eyebrows lower jaw.

Eyebrows dropped his feet as his face was thrown to the right, and Percy swore he thought he saw a flying tooth escape him. A moment of surprise passed, and Percy scrambled back away from Eyebrows, getting up to his feet, nodding to the bartender in thanks, before turning on his heel towards the exit of the club as fast as he could.

But being who Percy was, the exit was blocked. By more than one big giant dude as wide as Eyebrows, and not much more attractive to look at. To be precise, there were  _six_  of them. Which, really, should make Percy flattered he guessed, if they all thought it would take all of them to take him down. Although on the other hand, six of them really  _would_  be able to take him down, and Percy liked his life, please and thank you.

Might be a bit dangerous in times like these, and his family was confusing as all  _fudge,_  but he honestly didn't mind all that he had, including the ups and downs of his life. Yeah sure, living by himself in New York might be lonely sometimes, but he was working on it! He'd already got himself a dog he'd named Mrs. O'Leary from a (recently) deceased next door neighbor.

And yes, so his love life might not be totally amazing, (no Aunt Aphrodite you don't need to send me on blind dates, I'm  _fine)_  but he was working on that too! After his ex-girlfriend Rachel, he was totally working on getting himself 'out there' and finding himself Miss Right. It was going to happen eventually.

Well, if he lived through this.

"You're not going anywhere kid," one of them said, thought Percy couldn't tell which one had opened their mouth.

And again with the kid thing? Really?

The six Machos glared menacingly at Percy as he neared the exit door and Percy put his hands up in surrender. "Come one guys, you don't really want to do this right?" He tried a grin. "We're all friends here. No one needs to be hurt in this." He'd like his legs  _unbroken_  if you please.

Macho #1 decided that he was done with the conversation and charged at Percy, brass knuckles barely gleaming in the dull bar light. Percy hurled himself to the left, rolling over a low rising, wooden, drinking table and dashed forwards. He dodged the oncoming punches of Macho #1's fists, and was successfully able to kick a chair at him, probably bruising the guy's shins. In all honesty though, that was all the damage he was capable of doing at the moment. Macho# 2,3,4, and 5 decided to get in on the fun, and circled around Percy and Macho #1, looking for the opening that would bring Percy to his knees, no doubt.

Percy picked up a piece of a broken chair leg and used it as a bat against Macho #1.  _Alright, look for an weak spot Jackson_ , he coached himself.  _Look for the right_ \- Macho #1 swung at him with an ugly impatient look on his face, and when Percy leaned backwards to dodge, the man's left rib cage was left wide open. Percy didn't hesitate and took his improv bat and swung it as hard as he could at the open flesh.

Wind rushed out of Macho#1's mouth, and he suddenly sagged forwards completely out of breath with a good number of cracked or broken ribs, but Percy had no sympathy for him, and he swung again at the guys head, effectively sending him to the ground and out of the fight.

There was no moment of victory for him though, as in the next moment, Macho #2,3,4, and 5 rushed in like linebackers on a pro-football team. Percy ran for it.

He jumped over a small banister meant to herding people towards the bar, and rolled to his feet almost a yard from the door. Someone grabbed his left shoulder and yanked him from his feet. The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air and landing against the upwards side of a window, sending glass and wooden splinters raining down on his face and crumpled body.

Breathing suddenly really hurt, and getting up wasn't even an option. Percy squinted upwards from the wreckage he'd been flung at, and tried to remember how to breathe. Macho #6, the one Percy hadn't accounted for, walked over from the other side of the room and squatted down in front of him, grinning savagely.

He was different from the others, this one. He was Japanese- American first of all, and had an eyepatch over his left eye. Not a grimy looking eyepatch, but a black, leather looking thing with what Percy was pretty sure was the Japanese symbol of 'vengeance' written in white over it with some kind of paint. He was tall, had a wiry frame, way stronger than he looked then, (steroids? a part of his brain asked him) and had glossy black hair that moved over his forehead just across his eyebrows to the right side of his face. He looked familiar. Like he'd seen him before. One of the 'family reunions' maybe? Work?

"Hullo sunshine," the man said, clearly enjoying Percy's pain. "Time to get up." Suddenly his hands were on Percy's sweatshirt and lifting him from the ground, and up against the broken window Percy had just felt the backside of. His feet didn't even brush the ground, and Percy's stomach rolled. Black dots flickered in and out of Percy's line of vision, and his breath was shallow even in his own ears. He was going to pass out, he realized. Probably had a concussion.

Not good. Not good at all.

He had to get out of here.

And soon.

"Let go… 'a me," Percy spluttered out, his mind whirling, and the colors blurring together around him.

"Not just yet kid," Macho #6 said. "We still-"

From behind the huge guy, the bar door exploded inwards. Glass from its window flew out into the room like sharp diamonds, and for a moment, the pressure of Macho #6 holding him up seemed to dip.

The door was hanging off it's hinges, and when Percy was able to look up, he swore his eyes had somehow been swapped out, because in front of him was a… a freakin  _angel_.

Blond hair, that was lit up from an overhanging fluorescent light above her head, spilled in curls across slim shoulders covered in a dark leather jacket. She had on dark washed jeans tucked into brown calf high boots, with a very shiny, black, hand gun pointed at the back of Macho #6. "Drop him," she said. Cool, collected, threatening.

Oh, yeah. Definitely an angel.

Macho #6 dropped him to the ground. Percy didn't find his feet beneath him fast enough and landed on his butt, luckily, not down on an upwards piece of glass. The jolt of falling sent fire racing down his back and the back of his head, but he forced the dizziness and black dots back as he continued to look up.

Macho #6 raised his hands like he was surrendering, and Percy wanted to shout at the Angel Lady that it was a ruse, that he was dangerous. He caught a flash of her eyes, and realized a couple things simultaneously. One, she knew how dangerous the Macho Men were. Probably had first hand experience in them. Two, her eyes were  _grey._  As in storm clouds, or fog and moonstones. Something completely extraordinary, that gave him the feeling she was thinking a million different things all at once. And three, she was completely, and totally, out of his league.

"Annabeth Chase," Macho #6 said like someone who was tired of a repeated word. "Ti káneis sto bar ti̱s Mi̱téras Gi̱s?"

 _Greek,_  Percy recognized immediately. The man was speaking in Greek.  _What are you doing in Mother Earth's bar?_

Percy thanked his father for making him learn Greek when he was in the beginnings of high school for the company, and deftly moved his fingers around a long piece of broken glass on the ground from the broken window. She had a gun, yeah, but there were seven of them. Thugs who more than likely had guns of their own around here somewhere. He wasn't about to be in the middle of a gunfight without  _some kind_  of weapon. Not a weapon of choice, was his sliver of glass, but it was better than his bare fists.

" _You have something of mine,_ " Angel Lady, whose name was apparently Annabeth, answered back in a Greek clipped tone.

Macho#6 motioned to Percy with the back of his hand. " _Him? What do you want with him?"_

Percy's eyebrows raised. Him? She was here for  _him_? That seemed like a  _really_  good thing, or a  _really_  bad thing.

" _That's not really your business is it?_ "

" _It is when he made it my business_ ," he said gruffly in finality.

Annabeth must have recognized the tone too, because her gun dipped down to her side. " _How much do you want for him_?" Bargaining. She was  _bargaining_  for him. What even.

Macho #6 grinned. " _Why? How much is he worth? Two... three thousand?_ "

" _Not enough to trouble you with_."

His grin grew nasty, like he'd caught her in a lie, and he was relishing in it. "' _Not enough to trouble me with'? Annabeth_ ," he rolled her name across his tongue like fine chocolate, and some part of Percy wanted to beat the dude black and blue just for  _that_. " _You and I know each other well. I know only go after those that are worth the trouble. Tell me truth, if I were to give him to Gaia, how much would I get for him?"_

Get for him? Percy was damn sure he was not for sale thank you very much. And suddenly, Angel Lady didn't seem too amazing in his eyes either. What was going on here?

His fingers closed around the single glass piece a little more, and he prepared himself for the short sprint to the door. He could do it if he ran fast enough, and pushed himself past Annabeth. And the gun. On second thought, throwing himself out the broken window sounded like the best plan of action.

" _Not enough for this argument Ethan._ "

Ethan… it rung a bell, Percy was sure.

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. " _Probably, but he's ours now. So,_ " he nodded towards the ruined door. " _Run along._ "

Annabeth raised the gun again and Percy noticed that the other men, including Eyebrows, were standing off to the left, watching the progression of the conversation, and were reaching into their jackets at her lift of the gun.

Crap. She was gonna be  _toast._

Percy didn't think. He jumped to his feet, ignored the dizzy spin to his eyes, and slashed the back of Ethan's back from shoulder tip to waist. In one large streak, he carved a line of flesh down his back, and jumped away when Ethan cried out and fell forwards to the ground.

Annabeth looked surprised for a moment, before the gun moved and was trained on him. Percy didn't have time to be surprised, because in the same moment, the other thugs withdrew their own weapons. "Duck!" Percy yelled at her, before he jumped up and threw himself over another wooden drinking table.

He was barely over when he heard a gunshot go off, and felt a bullet whiz past his head. By, like, an inch. He crouched to his feet and turned himself towards the window he'd been thrown against earlier. It was a couple feet away, and if he sprinted, he knew he could make it.

Well, maybe make it. He still wasn't in tiptop shape believe it or not.

Gunshots rang around the bar, and Percy realized that Annabeth and the thugs were having a  _gunfight_  right next to him. He raised his head a little to look up, and felt plaster from the wall behind him spray over him when another bullet,  _closer_  to him than it had been last time, slice past the tip of his nose.

Percy ducked back down. Yeah. Maybe running wasn't going to work.

Ricochet's of bullets echoed around the room, and in a couple seconds, maybe it had been hours, Percy couldn't have told you, the room gained a silence he hadn't heard since walking in the bar for the first time. No more gunshots. No voices. Nothing.

Percy peeked over again.

No one shot anything at him.

Percy stood up and gaped at the room round him. Bodies. There were bodies everywhere. They looked to be alive, as some were holding shoulders, or sides, one was holding his foot, and Percy didn't even want to  _know_  how that happened, but all the thugs seemed to be down for the count.

The one he didn't see bleeding on the ground was-

The barrel of a gun pressed against the side of his head, and he nearly grinned to himself. Ah, there was Annabeth.

"Uh, nice shootin?" Percy said out loud, and then mentally slapped himself across the backside of his head.  _Stupid._

"Drop the glass. Hands behind your back."

No eyeroll, or sense of amusement. Did she even  _have_  a sense of humor to laugh about such things? Percy felt the barrel of the gun nudge against his forehead again, and he dropped the glass. Probably not.

Percy put his hands behind his back and Annabeth turned slowly so her gun was trained on him the entire way, until she was directly behind him. Something clicked, like metal against metal, and then suddenly, Percy felt handcuffs going around his wrists.

"Wait wha-" Percy started to say.

He was interrupted from saying anything more by the  _BANG_  of a gun going off, and then the blinding pain of a bullet going through him. As in,  _into his body_. Oh man. Blood. From his  _body._  Down his chest. Oh man. He'd been shot. He'd been shot. He'd-

Percy fell to his knees, unable to properly balance himself with his hands behind his back. Annabeth cursed and shot off her own gun, before Percy heard the dull t _hud_  of some heavy  _thing_  hit the wooden ground. Most likely a body, Percy knew.

The same body that had  _shot_  him.

Oh man.

Annabeth back came around in front of him, her curly looking princess curls framing her face and grey eyes, as she looked over his chest, taking in the gun shot wound. "It was clean," she told him, looking into his eyes for the first time, and making the two seconds of contact stretch into millenia's for him, before she looked back down. "It came out the back or your back and into the wall behind us. The exit wound's worse."

And now that she said that, he did feel the molten lava feeling of blood and broken tissue around his back. Huh.

"Hospital," Percy stated, starting to get himself to his feet. He needed to get to the hospital. Like right now.

Annabeth helped him up, and Percy felt like he was going to throw up, cry, and scream in the same moment. Holy hell, that was not nice.

"We can't."

What.

"What?" Percy echoed his completely surprised, and frozen mind. What did she mean they couldn't? As in  _no_  hospital? Was she out of her  _mind_? He'd just been  _shot!_

Annabeth grimaced. "We can't go to the hospital, we don't know who could be there."

Percy felt the sarcasm rise up in him through his pain filled mind. "How about  _doctors_? They're there."

Annabeth glared sharply, but Percy was already hurt, so it didn't do much to him. Made him a little more annoyed actually. "Spies Percy. There could be  _spies_  there. And if they find out you're there, you're dead."

"Spies?" Percy shook his head, the black dots of unconsciousness rolling in like morning ocean fog. What spies? He wasn't a spy.

"Gaia's spies Percy!" she said venomously. "The moment she finds out where you are, you won't live to see the next sunrise."

"Gaia?" Percy felt the darkness closing in on him, and he fell back to his knees.

"Stay awake Percy. Stay  _awake._ "

"How… do y'know my… name?" his body felt light. Like he could float away. Like he could fly.

"I got it from your bail piece."

Bail piece. Bail piece. Why did that ring… he didn't show up to court. Yesterday. Oh God. He was a  _fugitive._  A  _shot fugitive_.

Percy managed to open his eyes and look at Annabeth. If she had contact with his bail piece, the paperwork saying he'd missed his court date, then she… she must be… oh God.

"You're a bounty hunter."

And with that, Percy promptly passed out.


End file.
